


The Truth Hurts Worse Than Anything I Could Bring Myself To Do To You

by notSuperboi



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Best Friends to Lovers, Depression, F/M, Fake Dating, Gerard can't have nice things because of Mikey, Insecure Patrick, M/M, Past Relationship Abuse, Past Relationship(s), Patrick is adorable, Ryan's a bit of a dick I'm so sorry, Sasstrick, Soccer, Srar era, basically Brendon is super sad and has no friends, drugs and alcohol kiddos, group chat au, highschool, killjoy era, kind of?, not really - Freeform, vices era
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2019-01-05 05:05:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12183438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notSuperboi/pseuds/notSuperboi
Summary: That made sense. Gabe has had a very prominent crush on Patrick since third grade and while Pete constantly took on the role of the overprotective best friend and always kept Gabe away, he supposes that there would be a time where he wasn't there to scare off Saporta. For some reason, Pete hoped that Patrick had refused to go."and...? What did you tell him?"Pete studied Patrick very carefully and saw a hint of regret in his baby blues. Pete was confused, "Patrick...?""I said no...but he's very persistent and asked me why, so I may have told him I already have a date."Pete snorted, well that was a surprise, "my Patrick...lying? Who are you and what have you done with Trick?"Patrick scowled and shoved at Pete, huffing angrily at the boisterous laughter emitting from his friend. Pete took a second to calm down before asking Patrick, "So, who'd you say was your date?"Patrick nervously bit his lip and Pete wanted nothing more than to gently rub his thumb across that plump bottom lip, to feel the damage Patrick has done to it."You, Pete...I told him that you were my date..."Pete choked.





	1. You're a Canary

**Author's Note:**

> here we gooooooOoOOOo. Basically, I'm a little angered at the lack of Pete being absolutely infatuated and fake dating soooooo, here this is. Anyways, unbeta'd so all mistakes I take full credit for! Also, feel free to leave a comment, I love em.

Pete 8:53 am Thursday (physics class)  
Pete banged his head on the wooden desk, heavily sighing. A snicker came from behind him and Pete rolled his eyes, ignoring the persistent pokes to his left shoulder.

"Pete, I'm gonna fucking kick you."

Pete continued to ignore the pestering until a particularly sharp kick to the back of his calf made him hiss in pain and turn around to face his attacker.

"Joe I swear to fuck-"

"Shut the fuck up broski and listen," 

Pete raised a brow and turned around fully in his chair, sparing a glance at his teacher and rolling his eyes when he found her asleep at her desk, "Go on."

Joe grinned wildly, "We got our first home game of the season tomorrow, I'm thinking about hyping it up at the pep ralley, ya know, and then afterwords...Wentz Party?"

Pete rolled his eyes, "we can't hype up a party if we're still uncertain if we're gonna win or not, Joe."

Joe groaned, "dude! You're being a total puss, you know we're gonna win, state champions three years in a row! Soccer is like, the one thing this school is actually good at. Plus, you've had the littest fuckin parties since Freshman year, you can't just decide to quit now, they're fucking infamous!"

Pete smirked, "I dunno, I mean, I'm the team captain Trohman, i can't let all these newbies down..."

Joe shook his head fondly, recently trimmed afro bouncing with the shake, "You can't just all of a sudden decide to be responsible, Wentz."

Pete huffed, glancing at the clock and quickly shrugging on his bag, "It's a good thing I'm not then."

The bell rang loudly and Joe barked out a laugh, "See you tomorrow at ten!"

Pete chuckled when Joe stuck his head back in the classroom, "Don't forget the fucking booze and weed!"

"where am I even gonna get that shit in such short notice?"

Joe snorted, "Brendon Urie, who else?"

Pete shrugged and watched Joe leave, following suit out the class. He walked to his locker and pulled out his Pre-Cal book, shaking his head, He's definitely heard of Brendon Urie before. Kid was a fucking Theatrical genius, and had the best fucking weed in all of Chicago. Apparently, if the jock's who bought his weed were left unsatisfied or price was too high, they'd fuck him up a little. Pete's heard all of the infamous tales of everyone.

Perks of being a local.

He huffed a little and slammed his locker shut, stepping away and biting his lip at the sight of the note taped to his locker door. Pete pulled it off and squinted his eyes at the cursive lettering.

Pete,  
meet me by the bleachers after school  
xo, Ashlee

He groaned in annoyance, crumbling up the yellow note and throwing it into the trashcan next to the stairwell. He began his treck up the stairs, his mood much more sour than before.  
Pete scowled at the rememberance of Ashlee. He had walked in on her and his ex-best friend last summer, and it was something he could never forget. If there's one thing he hates more than the bleacher sprints his coach forces him to do, is cheaters. Now, she's trying to fucking apoligize just like her blocked texts to Pete.  
He'd much rather go and talk to a random stranger to acquire weed than Ashlee. So, that's what he's going to do. He shoved his way passed the crowd of underclassmen and into his Pre-cal class, setting his stuff down next to his desk in the back, and pulling his phone out of his pocket when he feels a buzz.

Troham is typing :  
Troham: dude I'm pretty sure that half of the school already knows about the WP (Wentz Party)  
Pweezy: wtf why  
Troham: because idiot, you can't have a Wentz party without hundreds of random dickheads  
Troham: besides, most of these guys are stoners and know exactly what to bring to ensure a fun time ;)  
Pweezy: ur an ass  
Troham is typing: 

Pete rolled his eyes and shut off his phone, ignoring the persistent buzzing coming from the thing. He set his head on the desk as the last bell rang, closing his eyes for a brief moment before his teacher's loud voice rang out through the room.

"Stump, you're late."

Pete smiled hard as Patrick shyly apoligized and endured a rant from Mrs. Hendricks about the holes in the knees of his black skinny jeans. Pete snorted as Patrick unconciously adjusted his fedora and began to tap his foot against the tile. The younger boy reached up to gesture with his hands when Pete noticed that the sleeves of his cardigan went passed his fingers. He's got fucking sweater paws, jeez, how adorable can this kid be?  
Pete smiled hard passed the loud thumping in his chest and glanced at Patrick when he began to make his way over. Pete mentally cheered when his best friend sat in the desk in front of him.

"if I get caught for not sitting in my assigned seat, I swear Pete I'll-"

Pete huffed, "Hendricks is horrible on Volleyball game days, she won't notice, she's got other things to deal with...anyways, what's wrong with you?"

Patrick raised a brow as their teacher began to write a set of problems on the board as 'busy work', "what'd ya mean?"

"Sasstrick is making a huge appearance right about now..."

"stop giving my sass a personality, it's weird."

Pete huffed, "that's not the point here, the point is the fact that you totally cocked your hip and challenged a coach a minute ago. You're usually very respectful."

Patrick bit his lip so hard that Pete was afraid that it was going to bleed.

"what's wrong, Lunchbox?"

A small sigh escaped Patrick's lips and he refused to meet Pete's eyes, "Gabe asked me to homecoming..."

And  
oh.  
That made sense. Gabe has had a very prominent crush on Patrick since third grade and while Pete constantly took on the role of the overprotective best friend and always kept Gabe away, he supposes that there would be a time where he wasn't there to scare off Saporta. For some reason, Pete hoped that Patrick had refused to go.

"and...? What did you tell him?"

Pete studied Patrick very carefully and saw a hint of regret in his baby blues. Pete was confused, "Patrick...?"

"I said no...but he's very persistent and asked me why, so I may have told him I already have a date."

Pete snorted, well that was a surprise, "my Patrick...lying? Who are you and what have you done with Trick?"

Patrick scowled and shoved at Pete, huffing angrily at the boisterous laughter emitting from his friend. Pete took a second to calm down before asking Patrick, "So, who'd you say was your date?"

Patrick nervously bit his lip and Pete wanted nothing more than to gently rub his thumb across that plump bottom lip, to feel the damage Patrick has done to it.

"You, Pete...I told him that you were my date..."

Pete choked. 

Patrick's eyes grew wide at Pete's coughing fit and held out his hands towards him, not knowing what to do. Pete sobered up pretty quickly and graciously took the rose gold water bottle that Patrick thrusted out to him. After taking multiple greedy sips he turned on his friend, eyes wide and disbelieving.

"what?!"

Patrick flushed red - a beautiful color on him, mind you - and stuttered over his words, "I-I just- Look, I don't know! I was scared and it was a heat of the moment thing..."

"that's not a very valid reason!"

Patrick huffed and crossed his arms, "I didn't know what I was thinking but now he's expecting me and you to show up to homecoming as a couple or something and I don't know what to do!"

Pete blew a puff of air out of his mouth and heavily sighed, "Fuck, he's probably gonna be expecting us to be a thing at my party tomorrow too..."

Patrick raised his brows, "you're planning a party at such short notice?"

Pete nodded, "yeah, and you're coming with. That's not the point, look if you told him we're a thing now, he's gonna be expecting shit from us."

Patrick furrowed his brows, "what are you saying...?"

Pete completely ignored him, off in his own little world, "actually this might work, it could get Ashlee off my back..."

Patrick gently shoved Pete's shoulder, "Pete, what are you talking about?"

Pete's eyes snapped over to meet Patrick's, "How do you feel about fake dating?"

Pete relished in the fact that he was the one to make Patrick's eyes go wide and cheeks flush red, "I mean...I'm not particularly against it..."

Pete smiled, "good, wear something memorable tomorrow, it's our first date after all."

He finished his sentence with a sly smirk and a wink, fully awaiting the snort and playfull slap from Patrick. He smiled to himself and quickly pulled out his phone, checking the message from Joe.

Troham: slight problem  
Troham: I think our coach found out about your party woops  
Troham: seriously though dude I'm hiding out in the supply closet, Coach Mayfield is scary and I am totally not doing bleachers today  
Troham: Shit I think she found me  
Troham: Fuck! I am so Fuckeeeeed

Pete raised his brows at the texts and went on to read the newest ones, chuckling at the picture of Joe's shoes running up the bleachers.

Troham: Thanks, asshole  
Troham: you are so lucky that I'm not a snitch

Pete smiled before replying.

Pweezy: ;)

Pete 4:00 pm (soccer field)

Pete couldn't be happier to be completely soaked in rain as lightning flashed across the sky. Mayfield had cut practice short ten minutes ago when the lighting radar went fucking crazy. They were warned to eat lightly and get a good night's rest for their game tomorrow. Yeah, right.  
Now, he was sprinting across the field and towards the Ag. barn where the group of stoners often hung out together in rainy weather. He huffed out a puff of breath as he jogged to a stop, watching the cold hair turn his hot breath into steam. He threw open the barn door, determined to make this quick, Joe said he had twenty minutes before the afro teen left him there and Pete was going to be forced to walk home in the rain. He was immedietely greeted by the smell of skunk, the distinct stench of weed. Pete grinned.  
A couple of the dread-wearing teens smiled lazily in his direction, recognizing the famous striker from their team. Pete cleared his throat and decided to walk up to the guy who looked the least high.

"Hey, um do you happen to know where Brendon Urie is?"

The guy started laughing uncontrollably and Pete backed away a little warily. Deciding to ask someone else, Pete chose the one gently strumming a bright pink acoustic guitar. It had the initials 'B.B.U' ingraved on it. It looked stolen.

"Hi, do you-?"

The boy with shaggy black hair sitting next to Pink Guitar spoke up, "Brendon doesn't come around here anymore, Ryan won't let him. He's probably down at the skate park or something."

Pete furrowed his brows and Pink Guitar spoke up, "Heh, yeah Ryan basically ruined him...it was kinda funny. He doesn't have any friends!"

The boys started breaking down with laughter and Pete honestly had had enough. He quickly backed away and high tailed it the fuck outta there. He quickly jogged back to Joe's truck and huffed little puffs of air.

"dude, what the fuck is wrong with those stoners?"

Joe snorted and started up the car, "that bad?"

"dude."

Joe giggled quietly and let Pete regain his right state of mind before asking about the weed, "so did you get it?"

Pete snorted, "fuck no, apparently Urie is like, an outcast or something, I really don't know. They said he's hanging out at the skatepark..."

Pete listened to Joe hum and he screeched as the truck jerked to the side at the sharp u-turn, "Joe, what the fuck?"

"You said he was at the skatepark and I have to be home by six since practice was cancelled."

Pete groaned in annoyance, "I thought we had given up..."

Joe laughed loudly and shook his head, swerving into the skatepark parking lot, hastily parking the car, "get the fuck out, let's do this."

Pete scowled, "I don't even know who Brendon is!"

Joe was already unbuckling his seatbelt and was out of the car by the time Pete finally got his shit together. He wrestled himself out of the car and jogged to catch up with Joe. He finally was in step with his friend, frusterated at the younger's antics.

Joe suddenly stopped and Pete looked at him confused, "that's him...go talk to him."

Pete scowled, "what?! Why me? You're the one who wanted weed!"

Joe rolled his eyes, "oh please, don't act like you didn't want any, plus it's your party-"

"that you planned."

"-and your also one of the most well-known guys at school. Just do it, he'll talk to you, not me."

Pete narrowed his eyes, "fine, but you owe me."

The next thing he knew, he was standing ten feet from a kid with fluffy brown hair and box-framed glass with an oversized sweater and ripped black jeans. He was sitting on a bench with a skateboard at his feet, it had red and teal accents, just like the kid's phone case. Pete really shouldn't be as intimidated as he is.

He heaved a sigh and mustered up his cool guy act, "Hey, you're Brendon Urie."

The kid jumped and narrowed his eyes, "you're Pete Wentz."

Pete smirked and tried to hid his sweaty palms, "fuck yeah."

Brendon raised a brow and sighed, delicately crossing his legs,"what do you want?"

Pete shrugged, "I suppose you already heard about my party?" At Brendon's nod Pete continued, "I need some of the strongest shit you have."

Brendon bit his lip and Pete was instantly reminded of Patrick. He looked behind Brendon and over to where Joe was positioned, hiding out in the bushes with a smile and a thumbs up. Pete shook his head as a kid began to scream and cry, claiming that the bushes were 'alive'. 

"Okay. I can give you all the strongest stuff I have but,"

Pete eagerly awaited the next sentence, "Yes?"

Brendon smiled slyly, "I have to be invited to your party. And you owe me."

Pete shrugged, "deal...what do I owe you?"

Something twinkled in Brendon's eye that Pete did not like, too mischevious for his standards. He already likes this kid. 

"you'll see."

Pete blinked and suddenly Brendon was on his skateboard, preparing to ride away, "see you tomorrow, Wentz"

Pete stood there dumbfounded, wondering what the fuck he just agreed to. 

In the distance he heard Joe screaming as a group of children decided to band together and 'defeat' the talking 'bush'.

 

He turned to leave, pushing a few angry kids out of his way, "step aside munchkins, I got this monster."

He grabbed Joe by the tip of his afro and dragged his ass to the car, demanding an explanation as to "what the fuck is going on inside Brendon Urie's head?"

He guesses that it has something to do with the 'Ryan' guy. Pete could honestly care less, as long as he got the weed he's asking for, and for free? Best price, although the 'owing' part put him off. Eh, free weed is free weed. He pinched the bridge of his nose, he had a lot of shit to think about, mainly because tomorrow was game day and 'Talk With Patrick and Sort Out The Details Of Fake Dating' day. 

Honestly, he could sleep forever and be just fine with the way things are going.


	2. I'm A Coal Mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so short oml...to make up for it, here's a nice lil playlist for this fic I guess...
> 
> Khalid- Young Dumb & Broke  
> Turbonegro- All My Friends Are Dead  
> CRUISR- All Over  
> Grouplove- Tongue Tied  
> AJR- DRAMA  
> grandson- Best Friends  
> Fall Out Boy- Young Volcanoes  
> Kesha- Hymn  
> Two Door Cinema Club- What You Know  
> (and of coarse) I've Got All This Ringing In My Ears...-Fall Out Boy

Friday 9:00 pm (soccer fields)

As expected, they won their game by a long shot. Pete had a total of five goals, the sixth one being by an assist with Frank and Spencer. Pete had rejoiced afterwards with promises of seeing them at his party in two hours. However, when he looked out over towards the bleachers, he saw Patrick perfectly poised in the student section, sitting shoulder to shoulder with Gerard and Mikey. Pete almost choked on his laughter at the sight of Patrick bundled up in Pete's letterman. He knew it was just to urge people on about the fake dating but Pete felt a surge of warmth melt his chest in the freezing air.   
He had to look away when Patrick smiled brightly and waved at him, too afraid that his heart was going to grow legs and walk out of his chest with how fast it was beating. He swallowed hard, head rushing and loud cheering from the adults and teens causing him to feel faint. Pete quickly stalked off to the locker room, cringing as he set the shower water all the way left, enjoying the burn from the heat. He sighed heavily, squeezing his eyes shut and quickly washing himself down.  
Once done, he hastily got dressed, sending out a quick text to Joe.

Pweezy: Everything's set up at home  
Pweezy: Go ahead and take everyone there

He didn't wait for a reply, instead he grabbed his bag and jogged over to the parking lot, avoiding his team. He didn't need to be confronted by his coach when she already knew about the party, if she is smart enough - which she is - she'll be able to connect the dots to who's hosting the party. Pete really doesn't want to do bleachers.  
He huffed, breath fogging up the cold air and smiled when he saw Patrick in the distance leaning against the hood of his car, looking down at his phone. Pete made a move to start sprinting to his friend, readying to yell out his name.

"Pete!"

He stopped in his tracks, a scowl on his face. Pete turned around and saw Ashlee smiling slyly in her dance team outfit, high heels clacking against the road. Pete decided he hated that sound.

"You never met me under the bleachers."

"I wonder why," Pete scoffed.

She glared at him and crossed her arms, "Don't get smart with me baby, you and I both know that's not a good choice."

Pete rolled his eyes, "But apparently fucking Reeves behind my back was."

Something sharp flashed behind her eyes and Pete almost flinched, but it was gone as soon as he saw it, replaced by a sickly sweet smile.

She took a step towards him and he took an automatic step back. He cursed as he saw Ashlee calculate his movements, smiling as she realized Pete was hesitant.

"See you at the party Pete."

His voice was stuck behind the lump in his throat, he couldn't yell at her. Instead, he turned around and proceeded to speed-walk toward his car, pushing passed Patrick and getting in the car, ignoring the worried look.

Patrick furrowed his brows and walked around to the other side of the car, "You good?"

Pete cleared his throat, "as good as I'll ever be."

"you sure because-"

"I'm positive trick, I'm honestly fine."  
There was a moment of silence, one where Pete naively thought that the conversation was over before Patrick spoke up.

"I saw Ashlee."

Pete glared at the steering wheel as Patrick continued, "she seemed angry and I overheard Andy talking to Joe about a note on your locker...after what happened I just-are...are you two y'know-?"

Pete snorted, "Oh god, no Patrick! She was the worst girlfriend I've ever had, do you know how toxic she was? I was almost glad when I saw her in that bed with Reeves, made me have a reason to break it off."

Pete watched as Patrick furrowed his brows before his eyes quickly flitted back to the road, glancing at the familiar street signs that led to his house, "you're positive? Because you usually have the tendencies to go back on flings."

Well, yeah true but, only because most of them reminded Pete of Patrick.

Ashlee was an exception, the one time he actually wanted to forget about his heart breaking crush on his best friend.

It was the worst decision of his life. At least he's still friends with the head cheerleader, Megan. She was his nicest.

Pete cracked a smile and turned on his turn signal, "Nah, Lunchbox. You're my special little fling now, not them."

And yeah, he could've worded it better so that it sounded like Pete wasn't going to just get rid of him but the small ghost of a blush on Patrick's pale cheeks was so worth it.

 

Saturday 1:00 am (Pete's House)

Getting that little freaky skater kid to supply the entire party with the strongest fucking weed Pete has ever fucking tasted, was so worth it. All he knows is that he's out of cereal and he's leaning against a scruffy faced, blue-eyed guy who is most certainly not a teenager. Pete lost the guy's name in the flurry of shots he had taken, snorting at Patrick's drunken giggling.   
The next thing he knows is that the Urie kid is stripping on his kitchen counter and fucking pole dancing. Pete was way too drunk to even think about how a stripper's pole got into his kitchen. Instead, he was cheering happily and throwing dollar bills at the fluffy haired teen. When it became too much for the public eye, scruffy man picked up Brendon by the waist and dragged him into another room to "go make him put on some clothes."  
Pete was steadily coming down from his high, able to now decipher words and form coherent sentences. He was glad too, because a second too late of coming down and he might've missed the perfect sight in front of him.  
They were in the living room, Patrick sitting right next to him with a golden straw of sorts held right up to his nose. Pete looked down at the matching golden tray that Patrick was doing lines off of and his eyes went wide. Red and blue powder in small, delicate lines that faded into purple. Patrick was doing fucking cocaine. Pete scrambled off the coach and quickly rooted through his drawers, smiling wide at the proffessional camera in his hands.   
Tonight was going to be forgotten unless he did this, so it was only obvious he did, right?

Pete took a few more shots before the scruffy man gave a dumb little speech or some shit and started rallying People up in a car. Pete must've blacked out because the next thing he remembers is waking up in a shopping cart full of cereal and ice cream in the middle of a Wal-Mart. He burped loudly, whining pitifully at the taste of vodka in his throat. He looked to his left and saw another shopping cart in the same predicament as him, except the passenger was swaddled with blankets and another person was on top of them.  
Pete's acohol riddled brain identified the two teens as Brendon and Patrick. Remembering his camera, Pete began to take pictures, ignoring the strange looks of the employees.

"patrick...Paaaatrick."

Pete smiled wide as Patrick grunted in response and gave a little whine. Pete sighed contently and decided to snap more photos before falling back asleep in the cart.

He woke up next to the feeling of being tilted and falling before ice cold water struck every nerve in his body and he was fighting for air. He resurfaced at the top of the pool, gasping like a fish. If he were sober, he'd probably be mad but seeing as the guy next to him in the pool kept handing him drink after drink, he was pretty content.

 

4:00 am

Someone had the brilliant idea to do fireworks and Pete was nodding along, stumbling to the garage and bringing back armfulls after armfulls, grnning ear to ear at the sounds of Patrick and Brendon drunkingly singing duets of different old pop songs from the eighties. Pete chuckled, setting up a bright purple firework in the center of his backyard, tilting it a little to position it right above his asshole neighbor's house.   
He pulled out his lighter, trying desperately to flick it on. He groaned at the sounds of Patrick giggling before a pair of delicate, perfectly maniquered hands stole the lighter from him. Pete squinted his eyes and smiled wide at Sarah, offering a drunken hello. She smiled back at him, successfully lighting the firework, "don't be too stupid tonight, okay?"

Pete winked, noticing she was still wearing her cheerleader uniform, "isn't it a little too late for warnings?"

Sarah huffed and Pete jumped at the spund of loud popping from the firework, gaze flying up to the sky. A snort came from his left and Pete looked away, completely ignoring how Joe and Frank were pointing fireworks at each other and lighting them up, playing chicken.

"it's actually too early."

Sarah nudged Brendon, "and you're too drunk to drive home," she snagged the keys out of his hand he was tryig to hide behind his back while he talked to them, "where's Zack?"

Pete narrowed his eyes, drunken brain fitting the pieces together, "hey Sarah, I didn't know you were friends with skater freak."

Brendon rolled his eyes and stumbled, Sarah throwing an arm around him to catch the teen while simultaniously catching Pete in the ribs with her ellbow. 

Brendon scowled, "Don't you have a boyfriend to throw insults around to?"

Pete stared blankly beforing remembering, oh yeah. Patrick. Word had apparently gotten around fast.

A smile wormed its way on his face and he gave a little wave to the group, searching the room for Patrick, "you're totally right, I must find my hubby."

It was around the time after he found Patrick being bombarded by other teens as they kept handing him shots that he decided to join in. Out of the corner of his eye Pete spotted Spencer getting acquainted with Brendon, he smiled.

He remembers the scruffy guy who he assumed was Zack handing both him and Patrick drinks and then everything became sort of blurry after that.

 

He does remember however, holding Patrick's hat and patting his back as he threw up in Pete's Mom's bathroom.

 

Everything went black after that moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To anyone with family in Vegas or anyone who lives in Vegas; please stay safe, my heart is with you <3


	3. Mistakes Are For People With Weaknesses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahhaha it's been so long I'm sorry pls take this peace offering thanks

Pete 2:00pm Saturday (Pete's House.)

When Pete woke up, the first thing he noticed was the uncontrolable ache in his head. He graoned, lifting his aching body off the cold floor and sitting up. He looked around the bathroom, squinting his eyes and realizing that he had passed out in his bath tub. He sniffed and sighed, leaning back and laying on his spine, closing his eyes once again.  
In all honesty, he really thought he could sleep it off.

His eyes snapped open to the sounds of pitiful whining coming from within the bathroom with him. He struggled to get up on his knees, leaning over the edge of the bath and wondering idly why his clothes were wet and covered in different powdered substances. Pete furrowed his brows when he saw no one in the room with him but the whining continued.

A gargled cry of "Peeeete" had the teen on a much higher level of alert.

"Patrick? Where the fuck...?''

Patrick continued to make pained noises until Pete decided to get up on wobbling legs and hobble over to where the noises were coming from. He got down on his knees in front of the cabinents underneath the sink and pulled them open, granting him with the sight of Patrick curled up and squeezing his eyes shut.

"how the fuck did you fit in there?"

Patrick reached out to Pete and the older teen pulled the strawberry blond out of the confined space and onto the freezing tile.

"I'm tiny"

As Pete helped Patrick to his feet a much more persistant thought rang out in his mind," Did you see Gabe at all last night?"

Patrick shook his head and winced, rubbing his temples when the shaking started to hurt, "I saw Travie though, he gave me a pack of beer but that's all."

Pete groaned and Patrick yelped at the sound of a door being open and the light flooding into the bathroom. Pete glared but Brendon stood unwavering in the doorway, "I saw him, he left though after taking like, three grams of the shit I brought. Seemed angry."

Pete beamed at Patrick, "mission passed!"

Patrick rubbed the side of his head and glared at Pete, "we still have to keep it up until homecoming, idiot."

Brendon furrowed his brows, "keep up what?"

Patrick looked mildly alarmed but Pete brushed it off easily, a simple lie slipping passed his lips, "We're annoying Gabe for fun."

Brendon nodded, easily swayed, before turning around and calling out, "spencer made breakfast."

Pete let confusion flash across his face for a second, "why is Brendon still here?"

Patrick shrugged and turned back to him, "thanks for uh, fake dating me...Gabe was starting to freak me out a little with all of his advances..."

Pete smiled passed a weird pang in his heart when he was reminded that this was only going to last until the last week of October, "no problem, maybe now he'll finally get the hint and we can like, set him up so after we break up he won't come crawlling to you."

Patrick scoffed and gently bonked his shoulder against Pete's, "yeah, right."

"plus, after all this, Ashlee might finally be over me...I didn't see her at all last night which is kind of weird now that I think about it."

Patrick furrowed his brows, hauling himself up on the counter, "I thought you hated her guts, she's never invited to these things."

Pete shook his head, "no, she always manages to find some fucking way to like, break in or some shit...she also said she'd see me here..."

Patrick shrugged, "maybe she thought against it."

Pete bit his lip but nodded nontheless, "yeah, maybe."

The thing was, Patrick didn't really know Ashlee all that well, she had drawn Pete away from his best friend while they were dating and Pete was still pretty fucking guilty over that fact. It took him a whole week of waiting on Patrick and apoligizing before the strawberry blond finally relented in a much needed hug, and this was after he had broken things off with her...practically six months.   
This meant that Patrick knew she was manipulative and a fucking bitch mind you, but he didn't really know that she hates breaking her habits. So when she goes to Pete's parties for years on end - even after they had broken up - and just doesn't show one night? Pete guesses that she's either dead or planning something big. For the first time, he wished it were the latter.

Pete was brought back to reality by the soft pad of Patrick's bare feet hitting the tile floor. he looked down at his best friend and couldn't help the smile that stretched across his face, "breakfast?"

Pete's heart was racing when Patrick fluttered his eyelashes and yawned, letting out a tiny squeek. Pete watched as long and skinny fingers gently brushed away perfectly soft strawberry blond hair, a welcoming smile found its way on Patrick's face, "sure."

Pete didn't know why but he couldn't take the way his heart felt like it were going to suddenly leap out of his chest and join hands with Patrick. He subconciously put a hand over his left pec, trying to still his heart. Patrick swayed his hips as he walked out of the room and Pete followed behind like an obedient dog.

Basically, he was fucked.

The breakfast table was crowded with food and Pete was almost impressed, "wow Spence, you really outdid yourself."

Pete startled and turned around at the sound of a low whistle. He furrowed his brows at Frank, "what the fuck are you still doing here?"

Frank rolled his eyes and shoved Pete backwards playfully, "don't be a dick, I was the one who threw all the hungover kids out of your house this morning so be grateful."

Pete snorted, eyes trailing off after Patrick, watching the younger teen converse with Brendon.

"my parents won't be home til tomorrow so technically I wouldn't have needed your help for a quick clean up anyways."

Frank hummed behind a glass of orange juice, "yeah, uh-huh, knowing you you'd probably procrastinate until the last second to clean up so don't be a prick."

Pete sighed, flopping himself down onto a barstool and pushing eggs around his plate, "yeah, you're probably right."

Spencer piped up from in front of the stove, "about you being a prick or the procrastination because both are true."

Pete scoffed, "very funny."

The group let out a few last chuckles before Frank cut in again, "where did your parents even go?"

Pete shrugged, "Austin to like, promote their record label or something which is total bull because we're the most wanted label in the country."

Brendon, who Pete was still wary of, this kid was an outcast by the fucking outcasts of all outcasts - stoners, spoke up, "they probably left to get away from you, ya know, to have-"

Patrick scrunched up his nose, "please don't-"

"-sex."

Pete laughed at the look on Patrick's face and he reached across the table to fist bump Brendon. He guesses the fluffy haired skater is okay.

Spencer lightly hit Brendon, "dude, those are his parents."

Frank chuckled, "hey, Pete laughed."

Patrick fake gagged, "you guys disgust me."

Pete winked, "you love me."

He couldn't deny the feeling that arose in his chest, that crawled its way up his throat and situated behind his tongue at the sight of a blush ghosting Patrick's features. Pete heaved a shaking breath and shoveled a forkfull of eggs in his mouth to keep him from saying something stupid.

Brendon furrowed his brows and cleared his throat, "you guys are dating...right? Cuz I feel like I asked this before or I like assumed and I don't want-"

Pete swallowed heavily and smiled wide, "no yeah, me and Trick? We're totally a thing."

Brendon nodded, "oh, cool."

Frank cracked his knuckles loudly, "alrighty then, let's start the rest of this cleaning shit or Pete's prestigous parents will kill us!"

Pete 6:00 pm Saturday (Pete's House)

Frank had to leave an hour ago to go somewhere with his friend, Gerard, and Spencer's mom called thirty minutes after that, so he had left too. Which meant that only Brendon and Patrick were left at his house. Pete's pretty certain that the only reason Brendon stayed was because he really desperately needed friends or he needed a ride home. Pete hoped it was the first option, he did not want to drive with his hangover.  
The three of them were currently on Pete's roof, a box of Capri-Sun's inbetween them and a few blankets. There were firework remains on the roof which reminded Pete of Joe trying to fire them at people last night. He's thankful that Andy is straight edge and also responsible for Joe when he's drunk and high, that way he knows that his two close friends are home safe.

A grunt from his left alerts him to the sight of Patrick getting up and tredding the slope down the roof and onto the balcony- apparently he jumped off that last night, according to Spencer.

Pete yawned and sat up, "where you going?"

Patrick called back up to him, "bathroom!"

Pete nodded - even though Patrick couldn't see, and lied back down.

"so," he cracked an eye open at the sound of Brendon's voice, "why are you two fake dating again?"

Fuck

He never heard a bedroom door close after Brendon left the master bathroom, did he?

He sat up and narrowed his eyes, "look, if you tell anyone-"

Brendon held up his hands defensively, "I won't, believe me. I just want to know why."

"I-we're" Pete sighed heavily.

He couldn't tell Brendon the truth, he just couldn't. It would risk his little crush being found out and Gabe might find out as well beacause let's face it, Brendon may not hang out with him but he's a fucking blabber mouth and Pete's only known him for a few days. He ran his fingers through his hair, sighing yet again. He needed to think of something.

"Look, we're not doing this to pull a prank on our friends or whatever, we're doing it because..." fuck, he froze up, "Ashlee."

Brendon tilted his head and Pete cursed himself, why was she the first thing that came to mind?!

"isn't she that bitch who like, constantly hates on Sarah because the cheer squad is better than the dance team?"

Pete nodded, "yeah, I think."

Brendon pulled a face, "ew, what does she have to-"realization flashed across his features and Pete regretted saying anything at all.

"oh I get it."

Pete highly doubts he does. He justs wants to get Ashlee off his back, that's like a side quest in a main quest. By helping Patrick, he ultimately helps himself. No creepy Gabe=No creepy Ashlee. That's their plan.

"you do?"

Brendon nods, "yep! You're trying to make her jealous."

Pete's face fell.

And  
no, he hates Ashlee, despises her even.

But, he doesn't know why he didn't deny it. He's just glad Brendon promised to keep quiet. 

As Brendon tries desperately to wipe the grin off his face as Patrick climbs back on the roof, he hopes to god that Brendon keeps his promise.

 

He can't lose Lunchbox again.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a thing. Update schedule might be hectic (I know, I kinda suck at that) But I will try as hard as I can to update at least every week, if not, expect one a week late. School sucks and so do I...


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